


Murmur

by ghostofshe



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Angst, Gen, One Word Prompts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-03
Updated: 2015-06-03
Packaged: 2018-04-02 15:54:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4065790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostofshe/pseuds/ghostofshe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Regret consumes everything it touches.<br/>One word prompt: Murmur</p>
            </blockquote>





	Murmur

That night, and only that night. He follows the Courier up to the Penthouse.   
  
Arcade and Veronica had teamed up in a rare moment of genius to override the security measures that disallowed anyone but Six from accessing that floor from the elevator. However, they had concluded that since they did all the technical work, that it was only fair for Boone to do the dirty work. A horrible idea if he'd ever heard one. Boone wasn't in the business of spying on people, and unlike Arcade and Veronica, he also held very little interest in the Courier's private affairs. He also held very little interest in the 'valid reasons' that the two had for their invasive curiosities.  
  
Boone, if nothing else, was a soldier. Soldiers follow orders, and even when those orders are insane, it isn't a soldier's job to go questioning the reasons for their CO's insanity. This much he had said to Arcade as the man poorly tried to persuade him. The doctor's response had been cutting. “Isn't unquestioningly following orders where things went wrong for you in the first place?” The sniper had nearly punched the glasses off that idiot's head.  
  
It did the trick though, in the end. The doctor was always right, of course, and now here he is, standing in the elevator as it climbs agonizingly slow towards the forbidden zone of the Lucky 38.  
  
Killing Mr. House weighed heavily on her, that much he knew. In her eyes, he could see that she felt like a traitor. Felt like she had squashed humanity's salvation and taken the burden onto herself. Seemed stupid to him, but he never said so. Maybe he should have.  
  
As the doors to the lift slide open, he moves as quietly as he can and peers down the stairs where he sees first a large control panel with a huge monitor that reads _Connection Lost..._ He then spies the courier sitting on the floor, surrounded by liquor bottles, jet canisters...  
  
And something wrapped in bandages. It's shaped like a body, but too impossibly thin to be so. It sits less than a foot in front of her. Something in his stomach drops, he should leave, he really should leave. However, as he starts to back away, he swears he can the Courier talking. Words that are too faint to hear, but as the doors to the elevator slide shut behind him, the murmur of her voice stays inside his head.  
  
When the elevator reaches the Presidential Suite, he has no words to to explain to the others what he saw. All he has is a sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach, as the Courier's soft mumbling voice echos through his mind. It won't stop. He knows better. The sickness he feels pushes upwards, and he finds himself suppressing a laugh.  
  
Madness isn't contagious, but somehow, he knows he has caught the Courier's madness. 


End file.
